


Longing To See Your Wings

by Psynatural



Series: Energetic Planes [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 08, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Wings, Boys Kissing, Castiel and Dean Winchester Watch Television, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel's Handprint, Castiel/Dean Winchester Cuddles, Castiel/Dean Winchester Fluff, Castiel/Dean Winchester Wing Kink, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Bunker, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Has A Wing Kink, Dean Loves Pie, Dean Winchester and Feelings, Dean and Food, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Good Brother Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Relationship(s), Jealous Dean, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Dean Winchester, Pining Castiel, Pining Dean, Profound Bond, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Psychic Abilities, Romantic Fluff, Sam Ships It, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sensation Play, Senses, Soulmates, Team Free Will, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Wingfic, Wings, other stuff I'm not tagging to avoid spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psynatural/pseuds/Psynatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas had been surprised that Dean wasn't one of the special humans that could perceive his true form, but Dean hadn't let that limitation really get to him until a chance encounter with a special human who could see Cas’ wings.  Dean’s newfound obsession with finding a way to see Cas’ wings has unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nonexistenz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/gifts).



> I was very excited to get a wingfic prompt for the [2014 Dean/Cas Secret Santa Exchange](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dcss2014) because it is something I've been itching to write. I used your prompts as a starting off point, but then the plot bunnies took over and the story expanded from there. This is likely the first installment of a verse, since I came up with too many ideas for the limited time frame of the Secret Santa.
> 
> Takes place in a slightly AU version of season 8. I rearranged episodes 11, 12, & 13 (LARP, finding and settling into the bunker) so that they took place before Cas returned from Purgatory. Otherwise it goes AU at the end of episode 8 Hunter Heroici because Cas decides to stay and keep hunting with the Winchesters (this takes place pretty soon after that). And Dean still has the handprint of course.
> 
> Please do NOT repost my stories on other sites (this includes unauthorized translations). On the other hand, link backs are strongly encouraged.
> 
> COMMENTS are absolutely adored! ❤

Dean’s head was spinning and he felt disoriented.  He blinked slowly at the fight still going on in front of him.  Sam and Cas were still each paired off against a demon, blades clashing.  Everything seemed so loud and hard to focus on.  Dean realized that he must have hit his head harder than usual when one of the demons had flung him across the room.  He knew that he needed to quickly rejoin the fight and help protect Sam and Cas, but he was having a hard time getting his body to move right.

“Dean!  Look out!” Sam yelled at him.  Dean glanced around in confusion for a moment before he saw it – a third demon was charging right at him with a long sharp blade.  Dean tried to scramble to his feet, but his balance was completely off and he wasn't moving fast enough.  The demon was almost upon him, and Dean realized that he wasn't going to make it.  This was it.

Suddenly there was the familiar sound of feathers, and Cas was right in front of him.  It all happened in such a blur that Dean wasn't even sure if Cas had run over or flown over.  The blade in the demon’s hand stopped just inches away from Dean’s throat.  The demon howled in surprise and pain as Cas stabbed it.  As the dead demon slumped to the floor, Dean noticed that there seemed to be something off about Cas’ posture.  But before Dean could analyze it more he was distracted by a flash of light as Sam finally managed to stab the last demon.  Apparently Cas had managed to finish off the demon he’d been fighting earlier too, because the battle was now over.

Cas turned around to face Dean.  There was worry, fear, and relief written all over Cas’ face . . . and was that also a hint of pain?

“Cas – y’okay?” Dean asked, his speech slightly slurred.

“I’m fine,” Cas insisted, giving Dean a fondly exasperated look for once again being more concerned about whether Cas was okay than the fact that he’d almost died and had a bad concussion.  Cas then placed two fingers on Dean’s forehead.  Healing warmth spread through Dean, and he caught himself leaning into Cas’ touch as he felt his mind clearing.  But even though Dean was now healed, Cas seemed to still be concerned that Dean really was alright, cupping his face briefly and gazing deeply into Dean as if to reassure himself that Dean was safe.  Dean tried not to think about how much his heart ached when Cas slowly removed his hand. 

“Thanks Cas,” Sam said.  “I was really worried for a moment there.”  There were tears of relief in Sam’s eyes, and Dean could see the traces of pain there.  It had only been a few months since Dean had gotten back from Purgatory, and Dean knew that Sam was probably still having flash backs of the last time that Dean had “died” while Sam had been helpless to do anything.  Dean was touched by Cas and Sam’s concern, he really was, but he was also uncomfortable getting fussed over.  He felt guilty and angry at himself for even having needed to be saved in the first place.

“Well I’m fine now, Sam – thanks to Cas – so you don’t need to be a girl about this,” Dean replied.  That got the expected bitchface from Sam.  Sam opened his mouth as if to comment on how Cas always seemed to get away with more chick-flick behavior than Sam did, but seemed to think better of it, and closed his mouth again with a scowl.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

They stopped at a diner for some much needed post-hunt cholesterol.  There was a big display case in the front to show off all of the different freshly baked pies.  Dean had been sorely tempted to just skip dinner and go straight for the pie, but the juicy burgers looked really delicious too, so he decided he could come back for the pie after dinner.  Perhaps he could even coax Cas into trying a few more flavors of pies.

“You sure you’re okay, Cas?” Dean asked Cas again one they were at a booth.  Cas was moving even more stiffly than normal, and he was starting to feel convinced that Cas was trying to hide some sort of pain.  After years of knowing Cas, Dean was quite skilled at picking up the slight nuances in Cas’ facial expressions, body language, and voice.  As far as Dean was concerned , Cas might as well have been wearing a neon sign announcing that something was wrong.  Dean couldn't see any sort of injury, but that didn't stop him from being worried.

“I’m fine Dean, you don’t need to worry about me,” Cas told him, but wouldn't meet his eyes when he said it.  Like hell he wouldn't worry!  But not wanting to show how concerned he really was, Dean opted to roll his eyes in exasperation. 

However, as Dean’s eyes flicked around the room, he did a double take at the intense way a little girl in another booth was staring at Cas.  She had big bright hazel eyes, and long dark brown hair with bangs that practically hung in her eyes – the sight made Dean think of a mini female version of Sam.  The girl looked to be about 5 years old, was wearing a bright red dress, and was staring at Cas with a gaping mouth and more concentration than any rightful kid that age should have.

“That kid human?” Dean asked.  Cas followed the trail of Dean’s gaze, and frowned slightly as he studied the girl.  Sam tried to casually turn around enough so that he could see too.

“I believe so,” Cas answered him after a moment.  The little girl and the angel continued to stare at each other, and Dean shifted in his seat uneasily.  Sure, Cas was prone to staring, but not many people stared back.  Dean wasn't about to admit how much he liked staring at Cas himself, but the idea of other people doing it bothered him.  He told himself that it was just because even if the little girl wasn't a demon, that didn't mean that she wasn't up to something.

“Come on, Lily – finish eating before your food gets cold,” a woman sitting across from the little girl, Lily, interrupted the staring contest.  But Lily still didn't look away from Cas.

“But Mommy!  That man glows and he has wings!  I think he’s an angel!” Lily protested.

Dean’s yellow alert was immediately elevated to red.  He instinctively gripped his knife under his shirt, ready to protect his angel if need be.  Keeping one eye on the little girl, he turned to Cas with a look of confusion.  However Cas didn't look worried, only mildly perplexed.

“What the hell, Cas?  I thought you said . . . ,” Dean whispered frantically.

“I told you Dean – certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage.  I've never met one before, but I believe that this girl is one of them,” Cas told him.  Dean scowled, but relaxed his grip on his knife somewhat.  Meanwhile, the mother seemed to have lost the battle to finish dinner.  The little girl was pulling her mother along by the hand, eager to go meet the angel.  The mother seemed a little nervous about meeting them, especially given Dean’s scowl, but much to Dean’s annoyance Sam gave her a small reassuring smile which helped her to relax more again.  Cas’ eyes never left Lily, as though he found her completely fascinating. 

“Are you a real angel?” Lily asked, practically bouncing with excitement.  Unlike a normal little girl, Lily didn't even seem hesitant, let alone scared off, due to the daggers in Dean’s eyes.

“Yes,” Cas confirmed without hesitation.  Dean’s eyes widened, and he glanced up at the girl’s mom to see how she was going to react to them ‘playing along’ with her daughter’s unusual ideas.

“Lily has always been special, and been able to see things most people can’t!” the mother practically gushed with pride.  Great – they had to get some new age hippie kind of mom that was willing to indulge her daughter.

“Yeah I’ll bet,” Dean muttered with an eye roll.  Sam kicked him under the table.  Sam always did have a soft spot for psychics. 

Meanwhile Lily’s gaze was glancing around an area of empty space next to Cas where Dean presumed that Cas’ wings must be.  She had a look of complete awe and wonder on her face like she was beholding the most beautiful sight that she had ever seen.  Dean had seen the shadows of Cas’ wings before, and he also ranked that as one of the most amazing things that he’d ever seen, and he’d seen a lot of things.  But this – this seemed somehow more than that.  Dean’s gut feeling told him that the girl wasn't just seeing the shadows of Cas’ wings, but the wings themselves, and they were even more magnificent.  Dean’s gut clenched at the thought of how this little girl was getting to see a part of Cas that he’d never be able to see.  Well, he could never see it unless he wanted to burn his eyes out anyway.  From the look of wonder on the girl’s face, Dean was almost tempted to let Cas’ glorious wings be the last thing that he’d ever see.

Wait a minute – was Cas actually blushing?  Dean could hardly believe his eyes – the usually very stoic and composed Cas was actually blushing from the way that the girl was looking at his wings!  No kid should ever be able to get that look from Cas!  Dean felt like this had to be some sort of violation that he refused to classify.  But then, just as he thought it couldn't get any worse – it of course did.

“Can I kiss it?” Lily asked hopefully, and Dean felt his heart stop.  “When I have a boo-boo, Mommy kisses it to make it all better.”  Dean felt his chest constrict, and he felt like he couldn't breathe as he processed the information.  So Dean’s theory was right – Cas was hiding an injury, and he thought that he could get away with it because it was on a part of him that Dean couldn't see.  Then there was the audacity of the little girl for wanting to kiss Cas!  Sure, it was in a completely platonic and childish kind of way, but that didn't stop the possessive rage from boiling in Dean’s blood.

Cas looked completely perplexed on how a kiss had the power to heal injuries.  He opened his mouth to say as much to the little girl, but then Sam caught his eye.  To Dean’s absolute horror, Sam was mouthing the words ‘play along’ to Cas, while grinning like this was the cutest thing that he’d ever seen.  Dean wanted nothing more than to leap across the table and throttle Sam within an inch of his life, then whisk Cas off somewhere where little girls wouldn't try to molest his wings with kisses.

“Alright,” Cas replied nervously with a small smile, and his posture shifted somewhat, like he was moving his wings closer to the little girl (while mostly managing to conceal his slight grimace from the pain of moving his wings).  Dean probably would have started yelling like a madman right then if not for a well-timed (and very hard) kick from Sam.  Sam shot him a dirty look saying very pointedly ‘dude don’t be jealous of a little girl.’  So Dean of course sent him an indignant dirty look back to tell Sam that he wasn't jealous, and then he vented his frustration by returning a few kicks under the table – hard enough that Sam would have those bruises for a long time.  Sam’s pain tolerance was high enough that he was able to barely wince from the pain.  It did nothing to make Dean feel any better.

“See?  All better!” Lily exclaimed happily, after managing to kiss Cas’ wing.  Cas gave her an adorably confused smile in thanks.  In any other situation, Dean would have found Cas’ confusion over the strangeness of human culture amusing and endearing, but now he just wanted that girl gone – yesterday.  Fortunately, the girl’s mom seemed to pick up that there was some kind of problem here.

“Thank you for your time, and sorry to have bothered you,” the mother told them, and started to pull the girl away.

“No problem.  Your daughter has a very bright soul,” Cas told her with a smile.  The woman beamed back at him.  The mother and daughter waved, and then finally left the diner.

“Don’t you usually like children?” Cas asked Dean once they were out of earshot.

“You lied to me!” Dean growled at Cas, ignoring Cas’ question to focus on how betrayed he felt.

“I’ll be fine Dean.  My wing will heal.  It’s nothing to be concerned about,” Cas told him, avoiding his eyes. 

“Nothing to be . . . ?  Like HELL it is!  That demon sliced you when you saved me earlier, didn't he?” Dean snapped back, and the look on Cas’ face confirmed the whole story.  “Don’t you EVER lie to me about things like this, Cas!  Now I know that you want to hunt as some sort of penance or whatever, but no more hunting until you've completely healed!”  Cas’ eyes snapped to Dean’s in a glare, ready to protest.  But then Dean shot Cas an even nastier look that screamed ‘don’t you DARE argue or disappear on me.’  After a moment, Cas’ eyes fell and he slumped in defeat.

“So . . . ,” Sam said awkwardly after a minute.  The look on his face as his eyes darted back and forth between Dean and Cas was hilarious, but Dean didn't feel up to mocking him right now.

“Time to take Cas home,” Dean replied.

“Home?” Cas questioned, meeting Dean’s eyes again.

“Yeah – I told you about the bunker we inherited.  It’s past time to get you settled in,” Dean replied.  Cas’ eyes widened slightly and his gaze became more tender when he got Dean’s unspoken implications – this was meant to be Cas’ home too.  Dean gave him a timid smile in return, and felt the tension between them thaw a little.  He wasn't ready to let Cas off the hook for lying to him yet, but the idea of Cas finally coming home made him feel a lot better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if there wasn't as much bonding between the kid and Cas as you were hoping for. Dean was throwing an absolute fit as is.


	2. Stay For More Than A Spell

Dean didn't waste any time before peppering Cas with questions once they got back to the Impala.

“We've got a fully-stocked medical kit in the trunk, Cas.  What do you need?” Dean asked, eyes darting between Cas’ eyes and the empty space where Dean thought that Cas’ injured wing occupied (though it was hard to tell exactly where that was – all he had to go by was where the little girl had kissed in relation to Cas’ body).

“There isn't anything in there that will help me heal faster, Dean.  I just need time,” Cas told him.

“Anything we could buy?” Dean asked, not willing to take no for an answer.

“No,” Cas replied simply.

“What if we made a make-shift sling for it?” Dean suggested.  He tried to suppress a smile at the amusing thought of Cas wearing a visible sling for an invisible wing.  At least with bandages on it Dean would sort-of be able to see Cas’ wing.

“That won’t be necessary.  My grace can hold the injury in place while it heals,” Cas told him.  Dean scowled, frustrated at feeling so useless.  He dug out a full bottle of aspirin and handed it to Cas.

“Here – at least take these, and let me know when you are ready for your next dose,” Dean ordered, wanting Cas to at least be in less pain even if he couldn't help him much in other ways.  “You think you’d be more comfortable in the front or the back?”

“The front,” Cas replied a little too eagerly.  Sam raised an eyebrow like he doubted that there was as much space to stretch out in and be comfortable in the front seat.  That, and they had inferred that it was Cas’ right wing that was injured, which would theoretically be pushed right up next to the passenger side door if Cas sat in the front.  Dean thought that Sam had a point, but wasn't about to deny his injured angel anything, so he was grateful that Sam just bit his lip and didn't comment.

“Fine,” was all that Sam said, “but only if Dean watches the road instead of staring at Cas.”  Dean huffed and rolled his eyes at Sam, then climbed into the car.  Since Cas had started hunting with them a few days ago, Dean had occasionally let Cas sit up front instead of Sam.  This had led to an argument later when Sam started yelling at Dean to keep his eyes on the road.  Dean knew he was a good driver who always watched the road, so he didn't get what was the big deal of glancing at Cas a few times while talking to him.  He never looked at Cas for all that long, not long enough to be unsafe when driving anyways.  Sam was probably just looking for an excuse to reclaim the front seat.

It wasn't until they were two hours away from the diner that Dean remembered that he had completely forgotten to order his pie.  With all of Dean’s anxiety over Cas and Cas’ wing, all thoughts of pie had uncharacteristically slipped Dean’s mind.  In other situations, Dean probably would have turned the car around to go get his pie, but not this time.  He wanted to get Cas home as soon as possible.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Fortunately, they had only been about an eight-hour drive away from the Bunker, and they made good time getting home.

“Welcome home Cas!” Dean just beamed with excitement.  He couldn't believe that Cas was finally here.  The Bunker felt complete, even more-so than it ever had before.  Dean launched into a grand tour of all the main rooms.  Cas glanced around with great interest, and a little awe.  Sam seemed to be highly amused at just how much Dean was enjoying this.

“I like this bunker.  It’s orderly,” Cas commented as they walked around.

“Oh, give us a few months.  Dean wants to get a ping-pong table,” Sam replied with an amused grin.

“I've heard of that.  It’s a game, right?” Cas asked excitedly.

“Yeah.  I’m sure Dean will be happy to teach you how to play balls,” Sam replied.  Dean was glad that his back had been turned to them so that neither of them could see the slight blush that crept over his face.  Stupid Sam.  He probably thought he was a riot.  Dean was sure that the innuendo in there went right over Cas’ head.

“I would like that,” Cas replied eagerly, and Dean felt butterflies in his stomach even though there was no way that Cas had meant it like that.

“Uh, one more important thing to show you, Cas,” Dean interrupted, glad to have a convenient subject change.  “If you want, you can have this bedroom.”  He showed Cas the bedroom right next to his own room.

“When did you have time to clean out a guest room?” Sam asked, noticing how next-to-godliness the room was, a complete contrast to all the other empty bedrooms in the bunker.

“Had to do something while you were busy geeking out over all the old Men of Letters books,” Dean shot back, then turned back to Cas hopefully.

“I still don’t need to sleep Dean,” Cas reminded him.

“Well yeah, but you said you like to meditate quietly, don’t you?  This is a really comfortable place for that,” Dean told him, plunking down on the bed and patting the spot next to him for Cas to come join him.  Cas tilted his head and studied Dean for a beat before slowly complying.

“This is much softer than the motel beds,” Cas commented as he sat down.

“Yep!  It’s memory foam, just like mine!” Dean told him with a grin.

“Oookay, I’m gonna go stock up on some groceries,” Sam interrupted awkwardly as he made a dash for the door.

“Hey no rabbit food, don’t forget lots of aspirin, and bring me some pie!” Dean called after him.  Cas seemed confused as to why Sam left so abruptly, but Dean got his annoying little brother’s message loud and clear.

Somehow, Sam had figured out Dean’s slow-realized and carefully guarded feelings towards Cas, and Sam was incorrectly assuming that Dean was ready to make his move.  Dean sighed.  Sure, Cas had finally agreed to stay, but for how long?  The other shoe could drop at any time.  Besides, it wasn't like Cas actually returned Dean’s feelings.  Cas had chosen to stay behind in Purgatory after all, before his mysterious resurrection.  But Dean decided to focus on the present – Cas was here now, and needed his help, so Dean was going to do everything he could for Cas.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Sam forgot the pie, but at least he managed to bring lots of aspirin for Cas.  The bags of groceries also had plenty of real food mixed in with Sam’s rabbit food, so Dean was able to cook something good for dinner.  Lettuce was okay so long as it was in a burger, and Sam nagged him less when he had a few veggies on top of his burger.  Even though he knew that Cas didn't need to eat, Dean made three portions anyway.  Dean was extremely pleased when Cas proclaimed that Dean’s homemade burgers were the best that he had ever tasted.  Even Sam admitted that Dean was a great cook.

When Dean wasn't cooking, eating, or constantly checking in on Cas (who always claimed that he didn't need anything), Dean devoted himself to research with more intensity than he ever had before in his life.  Every single book he could find on angels was spread out all over the table in front of him.  Since Cas wasn't being very forthcoming, Dean was determined to find out everything he could about angel wings.

Unfortunately, the Men of Letter’s research about angels was very disorganized.  What’s more, most of what they did have was speculation and compilations of ancient texts.  Dean knew that part of the problem was that angels walking the Earth had been uncommon before the apocalypse.  It was endlessly frustrating, and there were many times when Dean wanted to throw the books across the room.  But, at least the Men of Letters had painstakingly translated the passages from ancient texts into English.  Dean would seriously lose his mind if he had to consult ancient language dictionaries and try to go through texts word by word.

After Dean’s fifth cup of coffee, Sam stumbled into the room, yawning and still half asleep.  Dean figured that that meant that it was probably morning now, not that he’d been keeping track of the time.

“Dean?  Have you been up reading all night?” Sam asked with a sleepy confused tone in his voice.  “I thought we were taking a break from hunting, so what have you been researching?”  Sam walked over and picked up one of the books on the table.

“Just leave it, Sam!” Dean snapped irritably, yanking the book back from Sam before he’d had a chance to even barely glance at it.  Dean knew that part of his irritability was from lack of sleep and too many hours trying to make sense of so many different (and sometimes contradictory) sources about angels.  But Dean was also worried that Sam wouldn't really understand why Dean was obsessing over this. 

Sam didn't put up a fight or start bitching at Dean like he’d expected him to.  Instead, Sam gave Dean a really weird look, and walked out of the room.  Dean breathed a premature sigh of relief and went back to his researching.  A few minutes later, Sam was back – this time with Cas in tow.

“I could have told you all of this,” Cas told Dean as he glanced down at the angel wing diagram that Dean was studying.

“So talk,” Dean replied, crossing his arms and looking up at Cas.  “For starters – where are you hurt, Cas?”  Cas sighed with a mixture of exasperation and appreciation for Dean’s concern.  On the other hand, Dean could practically feel Sam’s inner geek perk up at the thought of an angel anatomy lesson, with made Dean feel a surge of protectiveness over Cas. 

“Here,” Cas told Dean reluctantly, gesturing to a spot on the diagram.  The place where Cas’ wing was injured was where the metacarpal bones would be on a bird, which according to the speculations in the texts, birds had wing anatomy similar to an angel’s wing anatomy. 

“It is mostly a flesh wound, but the impact did fracture the bone somewhat.  Well, at least ‘flesh’ and ‘bone’ are the closest approximate that there is in your language.  Naturally, my wings exist primarily as wavelengths on an alternate plane, which is why most humans can’t see them,” Cas continued.  Dean nodded, finding all of that consistent with what he’d read so far.

“Okay.  Tell me more,” Dean prompted.

“Not now.  You haven’t slept since before the last hunt.  You need to rest now,” Cas insisted.  Before Dean could protest, Cas placed two fingers on his forehead, and Dean was out cold.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Dean felt unusually refreshed after a long and nightmare-less sleep.  When he opened his eyes, he saw Cas sitting at the chair at the foot of his bed, watching over him while he slept.  Dean would never admit it, but he had placed that chair there for that very purpose.  Dean wanted to smile to himself that Cas had found it, but that was just for chick-flicks.  So instead, he scowled on the outside.

“Cas – what have I said about watching me while I sleep?” Dean asked wearily with no real heat in his voice.

“This is a very quiet and peaceful place to meditate, which promotes my healing and wellbeing,” Cas replied in a deadpan.  Apparently Cas was mastering the art of emotional blackmail, the cheeky bastard.  Dean couldn't help the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

“Dean,” Cas began more gently.  “I assure you that you have no need to worry about me.  I was being completely truthful when I told you that my wing will heal with a little time.”  Dean swallowed.

“Okay, I believe you Cas,” Dean replied.  “You said you’d tell me everything about your wings?”

“Of course,” Cas replied with puzzlement in his eyes.  “Although I don’t understand – why the sudden interest?”

Dean opened his mouth, but realized he had no words to describe it.  Was it really so hard to comprehend that Dean longed to know this part of Cas?  Some complete stranger could see this part of Cas, but not Dean, even after everything they’d been through together?  What’s more is how helpless Dean felt when it came to helping Cas’ wing heal.  Dean couldn't support Cas the way that he wanted to, all because of his inability to see Cas’ wings.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

After talking about wings for a while, Dean suggested a Doctor Sexy marathon.  He’d been wanting to show it to Cas anyway, and this seemed like a good time.  Besides, what better way to promote healing than to watch a hospital drama?

But Dean hadn't forgotten about his wing research.  He took some extending bathroom breaks a little more frequently than necessary so that he could spend a few minutes here and there looking up more information.  Dean figured that Cas probably suspected as much, but since Dean wasn't currently neglecting his physical needs for the sake of research, Cas let it slide without further comment.

Then Dean came across a passage that made his heart stop.  There was a reference to a text that contained a spell that would give humans the ability to see angels’ wings.

Dean could hardly believe his eyes.  Maybe he could really see Cas’ wings without burning his eyes out!  The thought propelled him into action, and he tore through the bunker like a madman until he found the text that had been referenced.  Dean said a silent ‘thank you’ to the Men of Letters that the spell was accompanied by a handwritten note with an English translation.  Even better – all the ingredients for the spell were in the storage room.  Dean could barely contain his excitement.

He didn't have a lot of experience mixing up spells, but it really didn't seem all that different from following a recipe while cooking.  Dean enjoyed cooking, and was pretty good at it, so it was easy to apply those skills here.  He quickly fell into a rhythm of chopping up and mixing ingredients.  Some of the components were surprisingly normal, like sesame oil.  With other ingredients, Dean tried hard not to think too closely about the fact that he was going to be drinking them down in a few short moments.  He didn't quite get how the Men of Letters had a jar of actual physical angel feathers when normally humans couldn't even see them, but the irony of needing to drink angel feathers in order to see angel wings was not lost on him.  Still, powdered angel feather wasn't exactly one of the more appetizing ingredients.

Ten minutes later Dean finished mixing all of the ingredients in his cup, and recited a few lines of Enochian to activate the spell.  The mixture bubbled like it had been carbonated.  It had a strange mix of smells – bitter with a touch of ozone, but also with hints of lavender and honey.  Dean took a deep breath.  Let’s do this.

“Dean?” Cas called as he walked into the room, concern evident in his voice.  Oops – it must have been a bit too long since Dean last left on a ‘bathroom break’ and Cas had come to check up on him.  Either that, or Cas’ super hearing had picked up on the brief line of Enochian that Dean had recited.  Cas’ eyes quickly met his, then looked down to see the glass in Dean’s hand.  But Dean wasn't about to wait around and let Cas talk him out of this.  Before Cas could react, he threw his head back and downed the drink in a few gulps.

“Dean!” Cas shouted, running towards him.  Dean felt a burst of power radiate out of his stomach and into the rest of his body.  Then everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This diagram](http://askabiologist.asu.edu/sites/default/files/resources/articles/bats/homology_550.jpg) is good a color-coded guide to the bones in a wing.
> 
> It is [canon](http://notice-everything.tumblr.com/post/44196403576/guys-we-thought-dean-was-looking-at-the-empty-side) that Dean's bedroom has a chair positioned there.
> 
> Angel feathers are an actual spell ingredient used in Supernatural, as seen in season 8 episode 12 "As Time Goes By." My theory on how this works will make more sense after the later chapters.


	3. Awakening

Dean didn't open his eyes immediately when he started to regain consciousness.  He felt a little weird, but he was groggy enough that it took him a few minutes to remember why.  Oh yeah – he’d drunk some potion that would supposedly allow him to see angel wings.  It probably wasn't the smartest thing he’d ever done, but if there was even a chance that it could work then it seemed worth the risk.  Time to find out.  Dean slowly started opening his eyes.

“Dean?” Sam was immediately there before Dean could even blink.  “You okay?”

“I'm fine,” Dean mumbled groggily.  He was in his room on his bed.  Cas must have carried him here after he passed out.

“He’s awake!” Sam called out to the other room, presumably to Cas, before turning back to Dean.  “You idiot!  You scared the crap out of us!  What were you thinking?”  Cas rushed into the room and immediately invaded Dean’s personal space to check on him.

“That was a stupid risk, Dean!  The original text says that spell has never been tested on a human . . . ,” Cas started to chastise him.  Cas stopped when he realized that Dean wasn't listening to a word he was saying.  Instead, Dean was grinning so much that it felt like his face was going to split in two.

“You can see them,” Cas stated slowly, eyes widening with astonishment.

“Yeah,” Dean managed to breathe out, feeling surreal like he was in a dream.  “Well, just the shadows, but still – I can see your wings, Cas!”  Huge black wing shaped shadows extended from Cas’ back, just like they had when they’d first met.  They were so amazing and beautiful, and now Dean would be able to see them every time he looked at Cas.  Without thinking, he reached out a hand to touch one.  His hand slipped right through it because it wasn't physically there, but Dean still felt it somehow.  There was a delightful tingling feeling whenever Dean’s hand passed through Cas’ wing.  From the look on Cas’ face, Dean could tell that Cas could actual feel Dean touching his wing.  Dean giggled.

“Are you . . . high?” Sam asked in astonishment.  Sam and Cas were both staring at Dean in shock – Dean never giggled.  But Dean couldn't bring himself to care right now.  He just felt too good.

“Shut up,” Dean replied with a laugh.  “This is awesome!” 

Dean wanted nothing more than to keep petting Cas’ wings while grinning like an idiot.  The tingles that went up his arm at every touch felt wonderful, and it was adorable how it made Cas blush.  Sam was probably right – for him to be thinking words like ‘adorable’ he’d have to be high.  But Cas seemed to grow uncomfortable – from the petting or the way that Dean kept giggling, Dean wasn't sure – and pulled away.

“From what I understand of the theory of the spell,” Cas explained, “the purpose was to raise Dean’s conscious awareness.  This is just a temporary euphoria.  Humans aren't usually jolted into such a state, but as soon as the shock of it wears off, he should start acting like himself again.  The other effects, like being able to see my wings, will most likely stay.”  At the last sentence Dean’s grin broadened.  That was exactly what he wanted – to be able to keep seeing Cas’ wings.

“Cas, did you find any information about possible side effects from that spell?” Sam asked.  Even though his words were addressed to Cas, his eyes never left Dean.

“No.  Only a fragment of the original text survived the centuries.  All I can surmise is that this spell was entirely theoretical.  What’s more, the English translation of the spell that Dean so foolishly used is not entirely accurate.  So no – there is no way to determine how this spell will affect Dean,” Cas replied gravely.

Dean hummed contentedly while watching Cas’ wings shift about.  They were so mesmerizing.  He only half listened to Sam and Cas’ worried discussion.  Dean felt great, and he could finally see Cas’ wings – and that was all he cared about.  It had been a long time since he’d felt this happy.  Why worry about anything else?  Dean’s eyes stayed glued to Cas’ wings until he nodded off to sleep.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

When Dean next woke up his head was clear.  Painfully clear.  Dean groaned with embarrassment as memories of how he’d acted washed over him.  He couldn't believe that he’d been giggling like a little girl.  Sam had just been gift wrapped months’ worth of teasing material.  Even worse, he’d been too busy groping Cas’ wings to use his new ability to help Cas.  Part of Dean wanted to bury his head under his pillow and delay having to go out and face Sam and Cas, but he figured it was better to just get it over with.

Sam and Cas were both in the library researching.  Dean smiled – he could still see Cas’ wings.  They looked so elegant and majestic that they still took his breath away.  Sam and Cas both looked up as soon as Dean entered the room.

“Dean?  Are you . . . ?” Sam asked.

“I’m uh, sorry about earlier,” Dean told them.  “All of my screws are back in place now.”  He wasn't very good at apologies, but he felt bad about how much he’d freaked out Sam and Cas.  Not that he regretted using the spell or anything, but he hadn't meant to make them worry about him.  Sam seemed to relax a bit when he saw that he was acting normal again, but Cas still studied him carefully.

“But you can still see the shadows of my wings,” Cas stated.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted.  “And I’m glad.  I know that you think it was a stupid risk, but for me it was worth it.  Now – I’m starved, so I’m gonna go cook something.  Hungry, Sam?”

“Er, yeah but I can cook if you need to . . . ,” Sam offered.  Dean tried to give them both a reassuring smile.

“I’m feeling fine – really.  The spell did exactly what it was supposed to, and the side effect wore off.  I’m good now.  So you can stop your worrying,” Dean told them.  “No more researching unless it is on the best prices for ping-pong tables.”

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Dean should’ve known that getting Sam to stop researching was like asking the sun to stop shining.  So Dean took up the strategy of acting as normal as possible to prove to Sam that he really was okay.  Cas was a bit more keen to go along with Dean, although Dean suspected that that was mostly because Cas wanted to keep a close eye on Dean.  But Dean legitimately did feel just fine, and figured it was just a matter of time before his actions could convince the two of them of that fact too.

Cas let Dean drag him away from the dusty old books so that they could watch more of Doctor Sexy.  After all, Cas hadn't even finished season 1 yet, and Dean had 5 seasons worth of collector’s edition boxed sets to show Cas.  While Dean had been constantly living on the road, he’d never really been able to accumulate many personal possessions.  But now that they had a home base to come back to, he’d indulged himself in a small dvd collection.  In the past he’d usually just had to settle for watching random episodes of Doctor Sexy whenever he happened to catch the show on.  Dean had never really had the chance before to watch all the episodes in order (and see the awesome behind-the-scenes extras).  There were some episodes that Dean hadn't ever had the chance to see before, and it felt extra cool to be able to experience it together with Cas.

Cas seemed to alternate between watching Dean closely to look for any signs of other side-effects of the spell, and staring very intently at the tv as if trying to discern what about this show had Dean so hooked.  The crink in his eyebrows when he did that was kind of endearing.  Dean likewise sometimes caught himself watching Cas almost as much as he was watching the show for similar reasons.  After all, Dean didn't want to miss all of Cas’ reactions to the show, and Dean was still concerned about how Cas’ injury was effecting him.

“You know, I can kind of see where your wing was hurt,” Dean commented between episodes.

“I thought that you could only see the shadows of my wings,” Cas stated with a frown.  The shadows themselves didn't really have a spot that visually stuck out – the wing wasn't bent wrong, and there were no signs of a scab, or a hole, or missing feathers, or anything.  But yet – there was this feeling of pain coming from the injury, specific to the exact spot where Cas had been stabbed.

“Well, yeah, but I dunno – I can just kind of sense it,” Dean replied with a shrug.  Cas continued to eye him quizzically.

“Could you sense it earlier?” Cas asked.

“I was out of my head earlier,” Dean replied.  The microwave chose that moment to ding to announce that the popcorn was ready, so Dean scrambled off to go retrieve it.  Dean was glad for the interruption because truth be told he wasn't really sure if he had sensed Cas’ injury earlier.

“You’re gonna love this flavor of popcorn, Cas.  It’s salted caramel,” Dean told him, and held out the bowl of steaming popcorn for Cas to sample.  Cas carefully picked up a single piece of popcorn, sniffed it, then popped it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.  Dean raised his eyebrows with a smirk to say ‘good – right?’

Cas must have thought so, because he nodded and reached for another piece. Dean smiled. It was a lot of fun to introduce Cas to things like the joys of different foods. Sure, Cas didn't always seem to like everything he tried (not that he ever said anything to that effect since Cas was too polite to complain, but those were the times when he didn't bother with a second bite). Dean added salted caramel popcorn to his mental list of foods that Cas liked, which was still pretty short but slowly getting longer. Since Cas had never bothered to try food before he met Dean, it was new territory that they were exploring together. Dean used every chance that he could to expand on his lists of what Cas liked and didn't like so he could give Cas as much of the former as possible. Sam often rolled his eyes at the way that Dean was so intent on introducing Cas to the physical pleasures of being human, but Dean thought that this was important. He wanted Cas to be able to experience all of the best that humanity had to offer. Just because Cas wasn't human didn't mean that he should miss out on the seven flavors of pie that Dean had coaxed him into trying (because missing things like that would be tragic). Cas was very good-natured about trying anything that Dean put in front of him, although sometimes he still asked strange questions.

“Why is it that humans often profess to enjoy foods that ‘go together,’ and yet occasionally instead join foods that are opposing by nature?” Cas asked.

“Because sometimes opposites attract, Cas,” Dean explained.  “Some of the best combinations in the world come from mixing things you wouldn't expect.  Like salty and sweet.  Mixing the chocolate with the peanut butter.  Every melody needs its base line.  When that flint hits that steel, sparks happen, and sometimes it’s enough to make you forget about all the crap in the world.”

“Sparks can ignite a chain reaction that fundamentally changes the elements they come in contact with,” Cas said.

“Well, yeah, but that change can be good – making each part better.  You don’t really get that with things that are very similar to each other.  It’s not that things that more traditionally ‘go together’ can’t be great too, but it’s not the same as the meeting of people from two completely different worlds,” Dean continued.

“People?” Cas questioned.  Dean turned slightly red at his subconscious slip.  Memories of the literal sparks flying around the barn when he’d first met Cas flooded his mind.  He needed to derail that train of thought, so he coughed and opted to change the subject.

“You’re gonna love this next episode, Cas,” Dean told him enthusiastically.  “You see, Doctor Ellen Piccolo falls for one of her patients, and there is some pretty hot girl-on-girl kissing . . .”

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

One side effect of the spell that Dean hadn't anticipated was that he apparently needed to sleep more to recover from whatever the spell had done to him.  As Dean started to regain consciousness, he felt warmer, cozier, and more loved than he remembered ever feeling before.  Everything just felt good, and as he breathed in deep the comforting smell of Cas, he felt content to just go back to sleep and stay like that forever.

Dean woke up with a start when he realized that he’d fallen asleep next to Cas on the couch.  Worse – in his sleep he’d cuddled up to Cas, wrapping his arms around him, and drooling a little on Cas’ shoulder.  Cas had wrapped his healthy wing around Dean like a blanket, and had laid his head on top of Dean’s head.  Dean froze in shock.

“Dean?” Cas mused softly, sounding concerned with the sudden tension in Dean’s body.  It was enough to propel Dean into action.  Dean grabbed the edge of Cas’ wing and lifted it off of him, then practically levitated off of the couch.  Cas’ jaw dropped and he gaped at Dean in shock, and perhaps a tinge of hurt?  Dean wasn't ready to try to process his own emotions, let alone Cas’ emotions yet.

“I, uh, gotta go,” Dean stammered.  The hallways went by in a blur, and Dean found himself locked in the bathroom, breathing heavily.

It had been one thing to indulge himself in hugging Cas when they had been in Purgatory – after all, they’d been separated for months, and Dean had been worried that he’d never see Cas again.  But here?  There was no way to pass that off as something between people who were just friends.  Dean felt very exposed.  Damn it.  In his panic, Dean had run away before he’d had a chance to really gauge Cas’ reaction to what he had done.  Had Dean just ruined things between them?  Would Cas want to leave now?  Dean felt terrified at the thought.

He paced the room while wringing his hands and trying to figure out what to do next, occasionally pausing to try to stretch out the kink in his back.  He must have slept on it weird, and contact with Cas’ feathers had made it itchy.  Dean supposed that he could try to pass the cuddle off as a side effect of the spell, but that would be a lie.  Besides, sooner or later Cas was going to notice that Dean really did have feelings for him, and would be more angry if Dean had lied about it.  Dean didn't want to try to live a lie, but he wasn't ready for the truth to come out either – along with the possible rejection that could accompany it.


	4. Natural Developments

Dean wasn't sure how long he paced around before he heard a knock at the door.

“Hey Dean – time to come out unless you want to eat whatever I want to cook for dinner,” Sam threatened.  Dean yanked the door open and glared at Sam.

“Not funny – keep out of my kitchen, bitch!” Dean snapped.  His stomach churned at the memory of the last time that he’d let Sam cook dinner.  Sam was no Top Chef, and had a tendency to sneak in way too many greens for Dean’s liking.  Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“The kitchen is all yours then, jerk,” Sam replied.  Dean scowled at the stupid grin on Sam’s face, and started walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam continued, and Dean froze at the tone of Sam’s voice.  That tone always preceded an attempted discussion of feelings.  Had Sam seen them on the couch earlier?  Dean felt mortified at the thought.  He was glad that his back was turned to Sam so that he didn't have to look him in the eye.

“When you guys were sleeping on the couch – that was the happiest that I've ever seen Cas,” Sam told him, and Dean felt his cheeks burn.  “I know that drinking some untested potion is easier for you than talking about your feelings – but whenever you are ready, I think Cas would really appreciate the latter.”

Dean wasn't sure how to even respond to that.  Sam seemed to think that Cas would reciprocate Dean’s feelings, but Dean wasn't so sure.  So Dean ran off to the kitchen to bury himself in his cooking.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Homemade pizza with a slew of toppings made completely from scratch?  Yeah, that was a lot more elaborate than Dean often made.  It completely used up all of the tomatoes that Sam had bought in a way that was a lot tastier than stupid salads.  It also required enough work that Dean was able to completely lose himself in the manual labor for a while.  Dean was quite proud of himself for managing to stretch the pizza dough without ending up with dough stuck to the ceiling of the bunker's kitchen. He hadn't had much practice with that before, but he always had had a knack for mastering new physical skills pretty quickly. He added extra pepperoni to his part of the pizza, and extra veggies to Sam's part. To Dean's annoyance, Cas had somehow picked up a liking for pineapple on his pizza, so Dean made sure to include lots of pineapple on some slices for Cas.  But eventually it was time to stick the pizza in the oven, and since he’d cleaned up the kitchen as he went along, Dean found that he was out of things to distract himself with.  Dean tried stretching again in another vain attempt to get rid of the kink in his back, and then slid the pizza into the oven.

After setting the timer, Dean turned to leave the kitchen, only to find Cas standing in the doorway, staring at him.  Cas couldn't have been there long because Dean had been paranoid enough to keep an eye out, but Cas could really be a ninja when he wanted to sneak up on Dean.  Dean gulped, feeling the butterflies frantically flying every which way in his stomach.

“You touched my wing,” Cas stated like it was some sort of profound revelation, which confused Dean.  It was not at all what he’d been expecting Cas to say.

“Uh, that wasn't the first time I’d touched it,” Dean stammered, remembering how he’d stroked Cas’ wing right after he’d started being able to see them.  He’d loved the feel of Cas’ wings, but was too embarrassed to let himself touch them like that again.

“No – this time you made actual physical contact with my wing and were able to move it, whereas previously your hand passed through it, similar to how you always did before you were able to see them.  My wings don’t usually interact with things on the physical plane, which is why they can pass right through things like clothes and chairs,” Cas told him, clearly trying to impress upon him the significance of this new development.  

Now that Cas mentioned it, yeah – Dean guessed he had actually physically held Cas' wing in his hand for a brief moment. He'd been so distracted by his embarrassment over being caught snuggling with Cas in his sleep that this latest stage of development in his new angel-wing-seeing power hadn't even consciously registered. Not that Dean minded the idea of his new skill continuing to improve – that was pretty awesome.  Could it get even better than this?  Could he someday see Cas' wings as clearly as that kid had?  Dean hoped so, but it was probably a long shot.  Still, he appreciated the advances he had made.  Looking back, Dean could recall the warm feeling of Cas' wing, pulsing with that awesome feeling tingly energy, and extremely soft. Deep down, he wished that he’d pretended to sleep a little longer just so that he could bask in the feeling.

“You can see more of them now too, can't you?” Cas prompted.

“Uh, yeah – I can kinda see the outlines of the feathers too now,” Dean admitted, not sure what to make of how things were developing, but so far it didn't seem like a bad thing.  “Wait – I always passed through your wings?  What, were you in the habit of wrapping your wings around me?”  Dean hadn't meant to bring up what had happened earlier, but it slipped out anyway.  Cas averted his eyes . . . . and was he actually blushing?  Dean gaped.  Had Cas been wrapping him in his wings all along and Dean had just never been able to realize it before?

“I’m aware that you are usually uncomfortable letting yourself have physical displays of affection,” Cas said quietly, still not meeting Dean’s eyes.  “I’ll try to refrain from doing so in the future.”  Cas looked so sad about the possibility of not being able to wrap his wings around Dean anymore that Dean couldn't stand it.

“You don’t have to stop, Cas.  It’s . . . nice,” Dean admitted nervously, starting to wonder if Sam had been right about Cas’ feelings but not quite daring to believe it yet.  “It’s just . . . . not the kind of thing that friends usually do, you know?”

“Friends?” Cas repeated carefully.  “And is ‘friends’ all you want to be with me?”  Dean’s heart hammered loudly in his chest, and he licked his lips nervously.

“No,” Dean admitted, his voice coming out low and raw.  “You've meant much more to me than that for a long time.”

Cas raised his head to lock eyes with Dean, with a look of hope and longing.  Upon seeing Dean’s shy smile back, Cas’ face broke out into the brightest smile that Dean had ever seen.  The next thing Dean knew, Cas had used his wings to pull Dean in close, then leaned in to kiss him.  Dean melted into the touch, letting himself be overcome with all of the glorious sensations and emotions coursing through him.  This didn't feel like any kissing that he’d ever done before – this felt so much deeper.  Cas was hugging Dean with his wings and arms, while caressing Dean’s lips and tongue with his own in a way that Dean had never been touched before.  What Cas lacked in experience he more than made up for in reverence.  Every one of Cas’ touches radiated with pure love, and Dean did his best to fully reciprocate.  Somehow, Dean’s hands ended up stroking the backs of Cas’ wings, which caused Cas to make little moans that Dean knew he’d never tire of hearing.  Dean could hardly believe that he’d waited so long to do this.  Everything just felt so good, and right, and Dean was overwhelmed by bliss.

It was probably quite a few minutes later, but it felt like only seconds, when the timer started to make shrill beeps at them.  Slowly and reluctantly they separated so that Dean could pull the pizza out of the oven before it burned.  Looking back at Cas, Dean’s smile broadened when he saw how undone and blissed out Cas looked.  He’d done that to Cas.  He wanted to make Cas that happy every day from now on.  Why the hell had he waited so long to admit his feelings?  All of the nerves and anxieties that he'd been feeling earlier now felt completely ridiculous.  There had been plenty of signs that Cas loved him back – Dean had just been too scared to get his hopes up.

Dean figured that the pizza needed some time to cool before it could be eaten, so he walked back over to Cas for round two.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

When Dean and Cas brought out the pizza to the table, Sam took one look at them, and his face burst into an all-too-knowing grin.  So much for their sorry attempt to straighten up and look slightly less ruffled before coming out.

“Finally – I’m thrilled for you both,” Sam beamed at them.  Dean flushed, feeling a bit embarrassed by all the attention that he was sure Sam wanted to give him, but he couldn't help smiling none the less.

“Yeah, well, good pizza takes a long time to make,” Dean deflected before Sam could gush any more chick flick stuff his way.  Like the wonderful brother that he was, Sam didn't even comment about how the pizza had gotten a bit cold.

“You going to eat some pizza too, Cas?” Sam asked, startling Cas slightly out of the way that Cas had been too busy adoringly staring at Dean to pay much attention to anything else.  No wonder Sam had instantly spotted the shift in their relationship.  Although if Dean was being perfectly honest, he’d have to admit that his own facial expression was probably a dead giveaway too.  His poker faces always seemed to suck around Sam anyway.  Oh well – Sam was being more than supportive of him and Cas getting together, and that was all that Dean could ever ask for.

“Of course,” Cas replied, helping himself to a slice.  “Dean is an excellent pizza man.”  Sam choked on his beer, and Dean groaned.

“Cas – humans have a rule called ‘don’t kiss and tell,’” Dean told him, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed.  Besides, it was hilarious how easy it was to mess with Sam sometimes.

“My apologies,” Cas replied with a smile that didn't look the least bit sorry.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

“So,” Sam began, clearing his throat after the last of the pizza had been demolished, “any updates on the spell affecting Dean?”  Dean sighed – so much for his plans to immediately drag Cas off for another make-out session.

“Dean’s new ability has continued to develop,” Cas told him before Dean could say a word, “At this rate, I suspect that he will soon be able to see my wings just as clearly as Lily could.  That seems to be the extent of the intention of the original spell.  The only lasting side effect that I've been able to discern is Dean’s increased sleep needs, which I suspect is also temporary.”  Both Sam and Cas turned to look at Dean to confirm or elaborate on what Cas said.

“I feel fantastic.  As far as I can tell, the spell is doing exactly what it is supposed to do – it just takes a while to get the full benefit,” Dean told them, shifting uncomfortably under their gazes.  It was very hard to suppress his grin at the thought of being able to see Cas’ wings clearly.  Just what he could see now of Cas’ wings was already mind-blowingly awesome.  It was hard to imagine that things could possibly get even better.  The slight smile on Cas’ soft lips suggested that Cas was also on board with Dean being able to see his wings more clearly.

“Any more bright lights?” Sam asked.

“What now?” Dean asked, completely confused (and a little jolted after having been caught staring at Cas’ lips).

“You don’t remember?” Cas asked him, and when Dean shook his head he continued.  “Immediately after you drank the potion, bright white light shone out of your eyes, ears, and mouth.  The handprint on your shoulder also glowed.”  Dean had to admit that that sounded a little freaky.

“Wait – the handprint also glowed?” Sam clarified.  “I thought that that was just scar tissue by now.  Could it be interacting with the spell in some way?”

“Possibly,” Cas replied.  “Some of my Grace resides in that spot after all . . . .”

“I've got some of your Grace inside me?” Dean interrupted with surprise.

“Yes,” Cas explained.  “That handprint is a physical manifestation of the first place that I touched you when I raised you from perdition.  Some of my Grace has clung to you ever since.  Even though I also used part of my Grace to restore your body, that part faded away after its purpose had been fulfilled, which is what is normal.  However, the part of my Grace in that handprint has never diminished in the slightest.  It’s an interesting phenomenon that I don’t fully understand, particularly since I have never seen another example.  Resurrections by angels are rare, but none of the other cases that I know about – Sam, Samuel, and Adam – have had such handprints.”  There was silence for a moment as they pondered Cas’ words.

“So you've been inside me for years now?” Dean commented with a smirk.  “Kinky!”  Cas blushed, and Sam groaned.  Dean was very proud of Cas for having understood his joke.  It wasn't that long ago that something like that might have gone right over Cas’ head.

“Dude!  You've only been together for like an hour!” Sam protested, squinting his eyes closed like he was trying to un-see the mental images that Dean had just provided him with.

“Just making up for lost time, Sammy,” Dean replied with a broad grin, winking at Cas, who was still blushing but didn't look opposed to the idea (not that Dean was actually planning to move quite that fast).  Still, he couldn't wait to get his hands back on his angel again.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

When the discussion finally ended, Dean was able to whisk Cas off to his bedroom.  Together they laid down on Dean’s bed, with Dean wrapped up in Cas’ wings, and made out like teenagers.  Normally Dean wasn't much of one for just making out – he usually just saw it as a precursor to sex.  But this was different – Dean relished the idea of taking it slow enough to do it right with Cas, and wanted to savor each step in the process.  Just making out with Cas made Dean feel warm and content in a way that he had never felt before.  He even smiled a bit at the thought that now his memory foam mattress would remember Cas too.

Eventually Cas broke the kiss, and Dean swallowed the small whimper of protest that almost escaped his lips.

“I can sense your body tiring,” Cas said reluctantly, as if it took a lot of willpower to stop.  “I need to let you sleep, but I’ll stay and watch over you.”  Dean wanted to protest and say that he was good to keep going, but he knew that Cas was right.  He felt exhausted, despite not having physically done much today, and his afternoon nap.  So Dean let himself drift off to sleep, still curled up in Cas’ wings.


	5. The Other Shoe

Dean was still smiling as he started drifting back to consciousness the next morning.  He felt the warmth and tingles of Cas’ wings all around him, and he knew that Cas had stayed the night with him just like he said he would.  As the memories of the previous evening washed over him, Dean could hardly believe that this was really happening.  Turns out Cas was right – good things do happen.

Cas must have sensed him waking up, because Cas started gently stroking Dean’s back.  Dean moaned and leaned into the touch.  Yeah – this was definitely how he wanted to wake up from now on.  Dean didn't recall taking his shirt off last night, and vaguely wondered if Cas had mojoed his shirt off during the night.  He didn't really care though, because Cas felt so good against his bare skin.  Cas’ hand occasionally brushed some particular spot on his back that sent tingles of pleasure throughout his body.

After a few minutes of just soaking in the physical sensations, Dean opened his eyes.  He gasped as he was greeted by the sight of Cas’ wings, completely clear to him now in vivid detail.  Each of the feathers of Cas’ wings was a shiny blue-black, with the tips of the feathers gradually becoming a vibrant blue that matched the eyes of Cas’ vessel.  There seemed to be a layer of energy pulsing above them, shimmering with a rainbow of colors, lots of silver, and flecks of gold.  The effect was similar to that of oil on water, but far more spectacular and mesmerizing.  Everything glowed with a golden warmth.

Dean reached out a finger to gently stroke the wings, and watched with amazement as the colors seemed to swirl around and interact with his touch.  Dean could feel many different layers to Cas’ wings too – the shimmering energy pulsing above the thick sleek feathers, which in turn covered warm skin, muscles, and bone that Dean couldn't see but could still sense.  Cas' wings were even more . . . mesmerizingly beautiful in a way that was completely beyond words than Dean could have ever imagined in his wildest dreams.

Dean could feel Cas waiting to hear his reaction to seeing his wings, but Dean was struggling to come up with words to express the overwhelming sense of wonder that he was feeling.  Finally, he decided to turn and face Cas and let his eyes do the talking.  But when he did, he came across another surprise.  It wasn't just Cas’ wings that were glowing, but his whole body!  Cas smiled at Dean’s speechless amazement, and leaned in to kiss him.

“I’m happy that I can now share this with you, Dean,” Cas told him, and Dean could feel Cas’ happiness radiating towards him.

“Me too,” Dean replied, leaning back in for another kiss.  He wove his fingers through the feathers on Cas’ wings, enjoying the tingles of energy dancing around his fingers as he did.  Cas moaned with pleasure and started making similar motions on Dean’s back.  Cas seemed particularly fond of petting whatever pleasure-giving spot he’d discovered earlier, and Dean couldn't help moaning back.

“Whatever you’re doing, it feels awesome,” Dean breathed, hoping that Cas would never stop.  But instead of encouraging Cas to keep going, those words seemed to stop Cas in his tracks.  Dean opened his eyes again and stared at Cas in confusion.

“Dean,” Cas began, suddenly sounding serious.  “The further enhancements to your vision weren't the only changes you underwent last night . . . . You've also started to grow your own pair of wings.”

Dean couldn't have heard right.  His mouth opened and closed soundlessly in disbelief.  Wings?  Him?  No way.  He tried to glance over his shoulder, but he couldn't get a good look at his own back.   He untangled himself from Cas’ wings and ran out of his room.  No sooner had Dean entered the hallway then he practically ran right into Sam.

“Don’t look!” Dean yelled, suddenly fearful of what could happen if Sam saw his wings.  He backed up into a wall, feeling some small tender part of him that was coming out of his back squishing against the wall.  Dean’s eyes widened in shock at the confirmation that there really was something there.

“Dean?  What . . . ?” Sam began, struggling to obey and not look at Dean, but years of deeply ingrained hunter instincts helped him keep his eyes carefully averted.

“You won’t burn Sam’s eyes out,” Cas interrupted.  Relief washed over Dean, and he took off down the hall again.  When he reached the bathroom, he turned his back to the mirror and glanced over his shoulder back at his reflection.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he stared at the wings sprouting from his back.  Actual wings.  They were tiny, each one barely the size of his hand, but they were unmistakably wings.  The wings were covered in what looked more like fluff than feathers, similar to a newly hatched chick, only the same light brown color as Dean’s hair.  They looked slightly crumpled (and felt a little sore) from having been squashed up against the wall a minute ago.  If Dean were to ever have imagined himself with wings, they would have looked absolutely nothing like this.

Sam and Cas came in right behind him.

“Oh God,” Sam breathed as he stared at Dean’s reflection.

“Sam can see them?” Dean asked.

“At the moment, they seem to exist primarily on the physical plane, created from the same flesh as the rest of your body,” Cas explained.

“At the moment?” Sam asked, still gaping at Dean’s wings.

“Part of Dean has started simultaneously existing on the same energetic plane where I keep my wings,” Cas explained.  “Theoretically with practice, Dean could shift his wings completely onto that plane, in which case humans would no longer be able to see them.”  Dean’s head spun as the new revelations just kept coming.

Dean tentatively reached one of his hands back to touch his wings.  His wing felt very soft against his fingertips, but it was a bit different from Cas’ wings.  Dean also felt the new nerves in his wings pick up the sensation of his fingers touching them.  His wings were very sensitive, but his own touch didn't send jolts of pleasure through them like Cas’ touch had.  Still, Dean yanked his hand back like he’d been burned.  This hadn't been part of the plan.

“I’m sure your wings will grow to be very beautiful,” Cas told him gently.

“Humans aren't supposed to have wings!” Dean protested, starting to freak out a little.  This was crossing the line between human and not-human.  Other than his day as a vampire (which he tried to forget about), Dean had always stayed very firmly on the human side of that line.  But now . . . .

“Is it . . . reversible?” Sam asked tentatively.

“I don’t know.  Dean’s case is unprecedented,” Cas looked saddened by the prospect of Dean losing his new wings.  “But I monitored Dean all night and he seems perfectly healthy.  The wings are not harmful.”  The fact that Cas didn't seem worried about this was a little comforting.  Cas would be honest with him if this was something bad, right?

Dean jumped when his new wings suddenly started twitching by themselves.

“What the hell?” Dean asked, trying not to completely freak out.

“Muscle spasms are your body’s way of strengthening your new muscles,” Cas explained patiently like this was an everyday occurrence.  “It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“Nothing to be concerned about?  I've got freakin’ wings, Cas!  I’m not even supposed to have those muscles!” Dean snapped.

“I thought you liked wings,” Cas replied, looking hurt.  It was painful to see that look on Cas’ face.

“I like _your_ wings, Cas, I really do.  But you’re an angel – you’re supposed to have wings,” Dean told him, then pointed to his own back.  “This isn't normal.  I need time to wrap my head around this.”

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Since the bunker was mostly underground, it wasn't exactly a warm place.  Considering that Dean was no longer wrapped in the warmth of Cas’ wings, he decided that the first order of business was getting a shirt.  He tried carefully pulling on one of his looser t-shirts, but his wings protested to the confinement and tented the back of his shirt uncomfortably.  With a sigh, Dean realized that normal shirts weren't going to work for him anymore.

Dean selected one of his older loose shirts that already had a few holes in it, and cut a hole out of the back of it.  Getting it on was a lot more difficult than he anticipated.  Dean hadn't figured out how to control the muscles in his wings yet, and they kept spasming at inopportune times as he tried to manhandle them through the hole in his shirt with his hands.  To make matters more complicated, it was difficult to reach the various parts of his wings and back, and since he didn't have a mirror in his room he couldn't even see what he was doing.  Naturally, Dean was too stubborn to go ask Cas for help, so he ended up relying mostly on his sense of touch to get the job done.  Dean hadn't fully mentally mapped out where all of the nerve impulses in his wings were physically coming from, so he tried to block it all out and just be guided by his fingers.  It was an embarrassingly slow process, but eventually Dean got his shirt on and comfortable.  He decided to forego his usual plaid overshirt today.  Instead he’d just keep moving about to stay warm.

As Dean ducked back into the hallway, he heard Cas and Sam continuing to discuss things.

“ . . . is that what your wings look like?” Sam was asking.  Dean had never really thought about it, but as far as he knew Sam had never so much as even seen the shadows of an angel’s wings before.

“No, mine are much larger and have a full plumage,” Cas explained.  “Dean’s are still developing so they are only covered in down feathers . . .”

Dean ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a few packs of beef jerky that he could eat while he worked.  He felt famished, which he supposed was probably the result of burning a lot of calories while growing freakin’ wings.  Then he headed for one of the empty bedrooms.  He had been meaning to start cleaning out another room in case Kevin ever got sick of whatever kind of strange safe-houseboat that Garth had set him up in.  Dean purposely chose a room not too close to his own, just in case he and Cas weren't always that quiet in the future, and set to work.

As Dean scrubbed away and sorted through some of the old junk left in the room, his mind kept wandering back to his new reality.  He remembered a time when he’d had a very black and white view of the world – he’d thought that his job was to kill everything supernatural.  But through Sam, Cas, and the occasional friendly monster, he’d learned to see the world more in shades of grey.  Dean accepted Sam, despite the effects of the non-human influences on his brother.  Dean accepted Cas, who had never even been human.  Could he come to accept this new non-human part of himself?

Dean was only even in this mess because he’d been so desperate to know this part of Cas that he’d been physically unable to ever know before.  What better way to really know and understand Cas’ wings than to have his own matching set?  In a way, this was a manifestation of what he’d wanted, even if it wasn't what he’d asked for.  Cas certainly seemed interested in Dean’s new wings.  Perhaps this shared experience could bring them closer together.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Sam swung by after a while to check on Dean.

“I’d offer you a feather duster, but I think you’re covered,” Sam quipped.  Dean couldn't help a small smile at that.  Good ol’ Sam.  Friendly banter was just the kind of normalcy he needed.

“You know maybe after they’re bigger I could just spin around once to get rid of all the dust on the furniture,” Dean replied with a grin.  Sam laughed, and looked relieved that Dean seemed to be taking this better.

“Yeah, but if you did that, it’d probably take an hour of preening to get the dust out of your wings,” Sam retorted with a smirk.  Oh right – preening was something that he’d have to learn to do now.  Cas had mentioned something the other day about preening his wings at regular intervals.  He would have to learn more about wing maintenance now.  A simple shower and running his fingers through his hair to fluff it up just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

“I sure hope nobody without an angel in their pocket tried this spell,” Dean commented, thinking that this would be a lot to figure out all by yourself.

“Actually, the best theory that Cas and I came up with is that the Grace inside you is causing you to take on more angel attributes than the spell would otherwise cause,” Sam told him.  Dean quirked an eyebrow.

“So you think that I only have wings because of my connection to Cas?” Dean asked.  Sam gave a sheepish shrug, but there was a bit of a smirk there too.  The conversation between Sam and Cas must have helped Sam relax a bit about Dean’s new appendages.  Now, Sam seemed to find the whole thing a bit amusing.  Dean expected a lot of wing jokes coming his way in the future.  At least, if their positions were reversed, Dean knew that he’d be relentless about the teasing.  However Sam’s acceptance made Dean start to feel that maybe this really would work out alright.


	6. Looking Forward

While Dean had been on his cleaning binge, Sam had gone out and brought back Chinese food.  Dean was grateful – the beef jerky he’d downed earlier hadn't been nearly enough.

Cas smiled at Dean as he entered the room, seeming to glow even brighter than he already was, and Dean smiled back.  Even Cas’ wings seemed to perk up a bit in Dean’s presence.  Cas looking so happy and majestic like that was definitely something he could get used to.  It was Dean’s first time being able to get a really good look at Cas since he’d started being able to fully see Cas’ wings, and it was a sight that made everything else seem worth it.  Even Cas’ eyes seemed to sparkle more than before.

Sam coughed from behind Dean, and Dean blushed from having been caught getting lost in Cas’ eyes again.  But as Dean dropped his gaze from Cas’ face, he noticed something peculiar.  One of Cas’ feathers, instead of being black with a blue tip, was brown with a green tip.  It was one of Cas’ primary feathers, if Dean remembered his angel anatomy lessons correctly.

“What’s up with that feather, Cas?” Dean asked, gesturing towards the lone rebellious feather.  To his surprise, Cas blushed at the question.

“It is rather peculiar.  I've never really understood how it happened, but . . . . ever since I rescued you from Hell I've always had a feather like that.  Even when I molt my old feathers, I still always end up with a new green feather,” Cas told him.  “I've, uh, kept all of my green feathers.  I can show you sometime.”

Dean turned bright red.  Cas had been keeping green feathers ever since they’d met just because they reminded him of Dean?  Just how long ago had Cas realized his own feelings for Dean?  Part of Dean wanted to ask, but not in front of Sam.  Cas had been so patient waiting for Dean to come to terms with his own feelings!  The last few days had just been full of revelations about Cas.

He had always known that Cas had somehow marked him when they’d first met, but he’d had no clue that he’d inexplicably left some kind of mark on Cas as well.  Dean wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that, but some possessive part of him kind of liked the idea of Cas being marked as his.  Still, the idea of marking each other before they even knew each other seemed a lot like some sort of destiny crap, and Dean didn't want to give destiny any credit.  As far as he was concerned, he and Cas were finally together _despite_ of destiny, not because of it.

Speaking of marks on Cas’ wings, Dean switched gears to examine the place where Cas had been stabbed the other day.  Dean narrowed his eyes and frowned.  Now that he could clearly see it . . . . it looked more painful than Cas would have led him to believe.  There was a big grey scab over the area where the blade had penetrated Cas’ wing.  The area was crisscrossed with white-blue threads of light that looked like they were trying to hold the injury in place.  But the most disturbing thing was the lack of color immediately surrounding the wound.  The shimmering rainbow energy layer was completely absent from the area, and even many of the feathers around it seemed to have lost some of their sheen and color.

“If that’s your idea of ‘just fine’ I don’t even want to know how bad it looked a few days ago,” Dean growled, feeling a flash of irritation of the memory of Cas trying to hide this from him in the first place.  At least that could never happen again now.  Dean was determined now to protect Cas’ wings just as much as the rest of him.

“It is healing.  It should only need a few more days,” Cas insisted, but his eyes were cast downwards and he looked a little ashamed at having been caught in such a deliberate lie.

“And the bluish light thingies are . . . ?” Dean continued.

“My Grace keeping it stabilized, yes,” Cas told him, and then before Dean could ask he added, “Yes Dean, I am still taking regular bottles of aspirin.  Thank you.”

Figuring that that manner was as settled as it was going to get for now, Dean turned his attention to all of the Chinese food on the table.  Bless Sam for getting more than usual, because Dean definitely felt like he needed it today.

Dean started to plunk down in his chair, and then winced in pain, swearing under his breath.  He’d temporarily forgotten about his new wings, and they’d accidentally caught on the back of the chair on his way down.  His wings stung more than if he’d done the same thing to his arm, but he didn't think he’d caused any damage.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

“Will they always be this sensitive?” Dean grumbled.  If something as simple as that had caused him pain, he worried just how painful a knife in the wing really was.  No wonder Cas had had so much trouble hiding his injury.  It’s still a weird sight to see, but Dean slightly envies the way that Cas casually slides into his own chair, his wings going right through the chair back with no problem.

“Yes,” Cas replied with a sympathetic smile, offering Dean some of his aspirin, which Dean waved off because he didn't think it was bad enough to warrant aspirin.  “High sensitivity is a very important and useful attribute of an angel’s wings . . .”

“Right,” Dean cut Cas off, his head already spinning enough without another anatomy lesson (and one he wasn't entirely sure was appropriate to have in front of Sam).  “Do my wings at least look a bit bigger than earlier?  Any signs of any real feathers?”  The indignity of having little baby chick wings was definitely getting to him.  Dean really needed to get ahold of Sam’s secret stash of Miracle Grow, stat!

“Down feathers are real feathers, Dean,” Cas replied with exasperation.  “But you should get flight feathers later on.”  Dean was relieved to hear that.  If he had to have wings, he wanted them to be awesome.  He tried to imagine himself with wings like Cas’ wings, but he couldn't quite picture it.  Wings like that just didn't belong on a lowly human like him.  He wasn't worthy of that.  But he couldn't help hoping that his wings did end up at least looking pretty badass.

“Do you think Dean will be able to fly?” Sam cut in excitedly.

“No way!” Dean immediately snapped back with a shudder.  He couldn't help picturing himself crashing and burning with his flaming baby chick wings trailing black smoke.

“Dean, I would never let anything happen to you,” Cas promised solemnly.  Even though Dean knew that was true, it didn't really help temper his fear of flying.

“Still not happening.  Just because I've got wings now doesn't mean that I have to fly any more than a penguin does,” Dean insisted, and started shoveling food in his mouth to put an end to that conversation.  Neither Sam nor Cas looked like they were ready to give up on the topic, but to his relief they stopped pressing him on it for now.

“Good thing you brought so much food, Sam,” Cas commented.  “While Dean’s wings are growing, he’ll need to up his caloric intake.”  That confirmed Dean’s earlier suspicions then.  Maybe he could talk Sam into getting him some pie later.

“Ugg,” Sam grumbled, “as if it wasn't already painful to watch how much he ate before.”

“Dean has an unusually fast metabolism,” Cas replied.  “Although it would be healthier if he lowered his cholesterol intake.  Then I wouldn't have to clear out his arteries so often.”  Dean practically choked in the piece of chicken he’d been inhaling.  That was another thing that he had had no idea that Cas did for him.  Just how much did Cas secretly do to help him?  Sam and Cas shared a smile and Dean groaned.  He did not need Sam and Cas ganging up on him to try to get him to eat better.  Sam was nodding like Cas' revelation hadn't been news to him at all.  Maybe it was already too late to stop them from teaming up on this topic.

“Vitamins are important for healthy feathers,” Sam said excitedly, and Dean flung a snow pea at him, which he ignored.  “I've heard vitamin A deficiency from lack of fruit is common in pet birds . . . .”

“I’m not a damn pet bird!” Dean protested, but to his horror Cas seemed intrigued.

“Angels have never had to worry about nutrition since our true forms aren't physical,” Cas replied as if Dean hadn't spoken.  “But since Dean has a physical body, his wings’ needs might be similar to a bird’s wings’ needs.” 

“Yeah well angel wings look more like hawk wings than freakin’ parakeet wings . . . ,” Dean argued.  He wanted food befitting the warrior that he was.  Besides, he was very skeptical of the idea that sprouting wings had suddenly given him new nutritional needs.  More likely, this was just an excuse to coerce him into eating more healthily.

“Humans are omnivores, Dean – you need more than just meat,” Cas countered.  Sam grinned at the prospect of something new to research.  The bastard probably also relished the thought of trying to force Dean to eat his spinach.  Dean scowled and pointedly shoved a large piece of chicken in his mouth.

“Yo’ zaid th’r mi’ be a way t’ make ‘em invisible?” Dean asked with his mouth full of food in the way that he knew annoyed Sam.  It was a valid question anyway.  Dean was good staying in the bunker until Cas’ wing was healed, but he didn't want to be trapped here long term because he couldn't be seen in public.  He fully intended to go back to hunting.

“Yes Dean – it should be possible for you to learn to shift your wings to the plane where mine are.  But that won’t be possible until they are more developed and you have learned fine coordination with them.  You haven’t yet started building muscle control?  I can help you work on that later,” Cas replied, completely unfazed by Dean’s bad table manners.

“Okay,” Dean agreed, figuring falling into a physical training routine would be easy enough.  “Once they are no longer physical we won’t have to worry about vitamins or whatnot!”  Dean smirked at Sam in triumph.  Sam quirked an amused eyebrow.

“Actually Dean your nutritional needs shouldn't change regardless of where your wings are,” Cas told him (not) helpfully.  Dean scowled.

“Pie is fruit,” Dean muttered.  But he realized that until he learned to make his wings invisible, he was entirely at the mercy of Sam's grocery shopping.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Much to his annoyance, Dean found himself very sleepy after lunch.  He wanted to just coffee up until after dinner, but Sam and Cas caught him and insisted that he take care of himself and take a nap instead.  To get them to stop nagging him, Dean went to his room for a while to read some Batman comics . . . and promptly fell asleep before he’d finished the first page.

Dean really hoped that his excess sleepiness was a sign that his wings were going to grow again, but to his dismay they still didn't look any bigger when he woke up.  But then again, he’d had them for less than a day so maybe his expectations were a bit much.

Next Dean decided to try to consciously move his wings.  They still twitched by themselves here and there, and he'd gotten surprisingly used to the feeling.  In his mind, this was still all very strange and different, but his body seemed to have already accepted this as completely normal.  Dean didn't actually physically feel weird or different, even though he thought that he should.  That in itself seemed strange.  But he had yet to actually make his wings move himself. 

Dean watched his reflection in the mirror as he willed his wings to move.  Nothing.  He experimented with things like rolling his shoulders, arching his back, and waving his arms about.  The wings did seem to respond to that, half-heartedly mirroring the movements of his other muscles.  Well, that was something at least.  However nothing he did seemed to isolate just the wing muscles.  He couldn't get so much as a single twitch from them without also moving muscles in his back or arms.  Dean sighed.  This was entirely new territory for him.  Maybe Cas would have some ideas.  He had offered to help Dean with this after all.

When Dean went to join the others for dinner, he took a moment to give Cas a quick kiss before (more carefully) sitting down at the table.  Dean was dismayed when Sam sat a small spinach salad in front of him along with the leftover Chinese food.  He glared at Sam, and started to push the salad away.

“I’ll buy you pie if you eat your veggies,” Sam attempted to bribe him.

“You never remember my pie!” Dean protested.

“So I’ll make a special trip first thing in the morning – promise,” Sam replied, and gave the puppy dog eyes.  Dean grumbled, but begrudgingly ate the salad.  It wasn't like he could go buy his own pie right now anyway, and he knew that Sam would stubbornly refuse to bring him pie for weeks if he didn't eat it.  Besides, the salad wasn't too bad with the tangy apricot dressing (not that he’d ever admit it).


	7. Stimulus

“So building muscle control is the first step to making them invisible?” Dean prompted after dinner.  He and Cas had retreated to his room.  As tempted as Dean was to just make out with Cas for a few hours, learning to control his wings was important too. 

He hadn't wanted to bring up the topic again around Sam because he felt a bit embarrassed that he hadn't figured out how to move his wings yet.  It was somehow easier talking about things like that with Cas, always had been.  Perhaps it was because Cas had seen Dean at his worst, torturing souls in Hell, but had never judged him for it.  Perhaps it was another effect of the strange yet powerful bond between them.  Perhaps it was because Cas would look at him like he could see straight into the depths of Dean’s soul, and loved him anyway.  Perhaps it was because Dean never had to be the perfect and strong big brother for Cas.  Whatever the reason, Dean felt like he could be open and vulnerable with Cas in a way that he’d never let himself be with anyone else.

“Yes, it really is a matter of learning to send the right neural impulses to the muscles to get the desired effect,” Cas explained.  “Just as you spent years training the parts of your brain that control your other muscles, such as those in your hands, and were able to develop fine-tuned coordination with them.”

“So you’re saying that my issue isn't with my wings, it’s that my brain doesn't have a clue how to work with them?” Dean asked.

“Yes.  I believe that a section of your brain has newly been given guardianship over your wings.  Now the neurons there must grow and build connections with each other in order to become efficient in their new duty,” Cas continued.

That seemed to make sense to Dean.  Contrary to popular belief, Dean hadn't actually slept through high school biology.  He knew that learning new things prompted the brain to build new neural networks.  He also knew that the brain could restructure itself based on external stimulus and needs.  There were cases of people getting brain damage and having to relearn how to move their arms and such using parts of their brain that hadn't previously been in charge of that.  Dean had paid a little extra attention to those lessons in case his hunter lifestyle took a wrong turn someday.  Fortunately, Dean’s brain was still in excellent condition – it just needed to learn to adapt to his new appendages.

“So how do we do this?” Dean asked.

“We need to do more to stimulate those neurons.  One way would be to activate the nerve endings in your wings, which will send impulses back to your brain,” Cas suggested.

“You want to feel up my wings?” Dean asked with a smirk, hoping that was where this was going.  He remembered how good Cas’ touch had felt this morning, and was definitely up for more.

“I thought this might be a good time to teach you about how to groom your wings,” Cas replied after blushing slightly at Dean’s suggestion.  “Take off your shirt.”

Dean grinned.  Cas taking charge and saying words like that gave him all kinds of tingles.  He hurried to comply.  But between his uncharacteristically nervous and fumbling hands and getting his wings repeatedly caught on his t-shirt (it wasn't any easier getting it off than it had been putting it on this morning), Dean found himself struggling.  His wings kept getting tangled up in his shirt surprisingly easily, and very stubbornly did NOT want to slide easily through the holes in his shirt like he wanted them to.  It didn't help that the agitation made his wings flail about uncontrollably.

“Don’t yank on the shirt – your wings are particularly fragile when they are this small,” Cas told him, frowning and walking behind Dean.  Dean felt Cas’ warm hands gently cup his wings and guide them out of his shirt one at a time.  Dean gasped at the touch.  The wings (and the rest of Dean) instantly relaxed and melted into Cas’ caress.  There may have been a fluffy layer of down feathers between Dean’s nerves and Cas’ hand, but that didn't seem to mute the feeling at all.  It felt amazing.  Dean couldn't really tell where on his wing Cas’ hand was at any given time (his brain still seemed to only think of them as a singular mass of ‘wing’ rather than a sum of smaller mentally-mapped-out parts), but each touch still sent a wave of pleasure through him.

“Are you familiar with your uropygial gland?” Cas asked, removing his hands from Dean and tossing the shirt away.

“My what?” Dean asked, taken aback by the loss of Cas’ touch.  That wasn't one of the parts of an angel's wing that he remembered from all of the diagrams that he'd looked at in the old Men of Letters texts.

“Your uropygial gland produces oil for preening your wings,” Cas explained.  He reached forward and took Dean’s hand in his, gently guiding it back to touch Dean’s lower back.  Right at the base of Dean’s spine was a little bump that hadn't been there before.  Like the wings, it was sensitive.  It seemed like a very provocative spot to have Cas’ hands.  Dean smirked at the thought of it being like his own little angelic tramp stamp.  The bump felt pretty small, only slightly bigger than an overgrown freckle.

As their hands touched it, warm oil started flowing out of it into their waiting hands.  It smelled somewhat of Dean’s own musk, but it also reminded him of the scent of the open road, with hints of pine.  He kind of liked it.  But what he really liked was the feeling of Cas’ hands on his own hands, helping him to milk his uropygial gland for oil and coating his fingertips and palms with it.  Dean felt like his whole world was narrowing down to the sparks of touch between him and his angel.  He closed his eyes, suspecting that all of the sensations might become overwhelming if he didn't limit some of the other kinds of stimulus to his brain.

Once both of their hands were thoroughly coated with the oil, Cas then guided his hands up to his wings.  The sensation of touching his own down feathers still seemed a bit strange and surreal to him.  Even the lightest brushes against his feathers sent vibrations down the feather shafts into his skin.

“They are very soft,” Cas commented softly, almost in a whisper but Dean caught every word crisply, “and they will become even more so after you've worked the oil into them.  I suggest that you get in the habit of working from the bottom up, and from the base to the tips – it will make it easier once your larger feathers start growing in.  Otherwise you will mess up the feathers on top while preening the feathers on the bottom.”

Dean would have thought that rubbing oil into his feathers would be a quick job since his wings were still so tiny, but that wasn't the case.  Cas guided Dean’s hands to start massaging the oil into individual feathers.  Dean was surprised just how small his feathers were.  Some of them were even smaller than his finger nail.  At that size, it was sometimes difficult to even separate the feathers in order to work on them.  Dean appreciated Cas’ confident and sure touch guiding him while they groomed.  He supposed that feather size was somewhat proportionate to wing size, although he doubted that down feathers ever got very big.  He wondered how big his wings would have to get before they would start growing some larger feathers.

While Dean’s own hands on his wings felt really good, whenever Cas touched his wings it felt unbelievably amazing.  The little sparks of pleasure were almost intoxicating.  Dean gasped, and found himself making little happy sounds.  Dean swore that he could feel the way that Cas started smiling at that, even though he couldn't see it.  He couldn't really comprehend how it all worked, but it felt like there was more pleasure radiating off of Cas and into him in response to his own pleasure.  There was so much love coming from Cas that Dean felt his eyes water a little (and he was kind of glad that his back was turned to Cas so he couldn't’ see).  Dean couldn't comprehend how he could be worthy of all of the love and devotion Cas put into the way he stroked Dean’s feathers.  Cas seemed to be happy because he was making Dean so happy.  The whole thing blew Dean’s mind.

Slowly and meticulously, they started working up Dean’s right wing feather by feather.  Occasionally, they would dip back down to Dean’s uropygial gland for more oil.  Cas had been right – the feathers that they had already worked over did seem much softer than the ones they hadn't groomed.  Any spots that had felt a little stiff or grimy just seemed to melt away.  What remained just might be the softest thing that Dean had ever felt.  He couldn't believe that this was now part of his own body.

The nerves within Dean’s wings also seemed to have started to differentiate between the newly groomed areas and the rest of his wings.  That part of the wing felt lighter somehow, more relaxed and able to breathe.  Dean hadn't realized before just how much having ruffled feathers had been irritating his wings.  Now that he knew just how good they could feel he felt a little more motivated to take care of them.

Dean would have been content to just keep going like this indefinitely if not for the way that this position was starting to make his arms ache and strain.  He was a lot more flexible than the average man (a trait that had helped him get out of many a tight spot over the years), but even he had his limits.  There was only so far that he could reach up his own back, even with Cas’ help.

“Hang on – gotta shift positions,” Dean told Cas, his voice coming out breathless and raw.  Not wanting to break contact with Cas, Dean took Cas’ hands in his as he moved his arms around until they were going up over his shoulders.  It was much easier to reach things this way.  The only disadvantage was that it was now a lot farther of a commute down to his uropygial gland to get more oil.

“With practice you will become even more flexible and this will become natural,” Cas promised, his low voice sounding even lower than Dean had ever heard before.  “Your wings have a great potential for flexibility as well – much more so than a bird’s wings.”

Cas’ touch was so tender and gentle, and it took Dean awhile to realize that his wing was leaning into Cas’ touch.  The movement was rather clumsy and uncoordinated, but it was his first wing movement with a clear intent.

Dean wasn't the only one who noticed.  Cas paused in his grooming to start lightly stroking Dean’s wings from base to tip.  Dean was being petted – and he was enjoying it too much to care.  Each slow stroke came from a slightly different angle and on different parts of his wing.  Dean tried to more consciously lean his wing into each touch, seeking more pleasure.  He vaguely realized that he had a lot better sense of place with where his wings and Cas’ hands were than he’d had earlier.  Even though he could actually see Cas’ hands, he found that he had a general idea of where they were at all times.  But Dean was too preoccupied to try to analyze that thought at the moment. 

All of his movements were very clumsy, but he realized that for the first time he was actually consciously moving his wings.  Some of his movements were even rewarded with sparks of pleasure from increased contact with Cas’ hands.  At one point he even managed to partially curl his wing around Cas’ fingers.

“Good Dean,” Cas repeatedly praised, and Dean could hear the smile in his voice.  “You’re a very fast learner.  We won’t strain your wings by overdoing it on the first day, but you are making wonderful progress.”

Dean whimpered slightly when Cas pulled away from his right wing.  But when Cas dipped down to Dean’s uropygial gland for more oil so he could start grooming Dean’s left wing, Dean hurried to join him.

They started together on the second wing.  Dean had a much better feel for what he was doing now, but he still really liked the feel of Cas’ hands guiding his movements.  Even though Dean’s wings were still quite small, Cas was very meticulous with his work, so it still took a long time (although not as long as the first wing).  Cas never moved on until he had worked each feather to perfection.  All of his feathers seemed to really be soaking in the oil more than Dean would have expected them to, like they were thirsty and he was offering them a refreshing drink.  He wondered if they were always like this, or if this was just because it was their first grooming.

This time, Dean was a bit quicker at figuring out how to get his wing to lean into Cas’ touch.  His brain seemed to be getting the idea now.  He found that he especially liked trying to curl his wing around Cas’ fingers when Cas was grooming the underside of his wing.  He wondered if his wings would be big enough someday to fully wrap around Cas – protecting him just like he protected Dean.

“While they are on the physical plane, I recommend grooming them daily,” Cas told him.  Dean realized with a bit of sadness that they were now completely finished with his wings.  His wings felt awesome, much better than earlier, and he felt accomplished with the (limited and still clumsy) wing movements he could now do.

Cas leaned forward and kissed Dean’s cheek, careful not to crush Dean’s wings between them.  Dean eagerly turned his head so that he could meet Cas’ lips, and flared his wings backwards to brush against Cas’ chest.  Rubbing his wings against Cas felt really good.  Every little touch of his wings against Cas continued to create sparks of pleasure , and with so much surface area against Cas, Dean couldn't help moaning.

“You’re going to ruffle your feathers again if you keep doing that,” Cas commented with an amused smile between kisses.  He spun Dean around so that they were facing each other.

“Good – then you’ll have to groom me again,” Dean replied.  From the way that Cas’ eyes twinkled at the suggestion, Dean knew that he’d be coming up with many cases of “accidentally” ruffled feathers in the future.  Although, come to think of it, that wasn't the only way that they could keep doing this.  Dean grinned as he snaked his hands down Cas’ back, locating Cas’ uropygial gland with ease.

“Yes Dean,” Cas moaned.


	8. Smoothing Ruffled Feathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This diagram](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_luxu0eQ9KW1r1s6we.jpg) is a pretty good color-coded guide to the different types/placements of wing feathers.

Dean kept his mouth locked firmly to Cas’ mouth while he oiled up his hands with oil from Cas’ uropygial gland.  He loved the way that Cas moaned into his mouth, and the pleasant vibrations the sound made as it entered his body.  Dean continued to lap eagerly at the inside of Cas’ mouth, caressing it tenderly with his tongue.

The scent of Cas’ oil reminded Dean of thunder storms, with maybe a bit of lavender, vanilla, and some other things that Dean was too distracted to fully identify.  Dean found himself craving the smell of that oil.  He wanted more – a lot more.  Dean wanted to coat not just Cas’ wings, but his whole body with that amazing oil.  He didn't even want to stop there – bathing himself in that oil was starting to sound like a good idea, letting the scent of Cas soak into his own skin and feathers.  They would definitely be doing that sometime soon.

Dean remembered just how sensitive his own uropygial gland was, but Cas seemed to react even more strongly than Dean had to his uropygial gland being played with.  At first he was surprised by this since he hadn't expected this to be much of a new thing for Cas.  But then he remembered that Cas was a virgin.  Had nobody ever touched Cas this way before?  Perhaps the physical sensations side of things was also different from whatever Cas had been used to before he’d come to Earth.  Whatever the reason, Cas was clearly not used to the sensations Dean was causing by milking his uropygial gland.

“Too much?” Dean asked, reluctantly breaking the lip lock.  As much as he enjoyed making Cas completely melt and fall apart at his touch, he also wanted to take the time to make sure that he did things right with Cas.  Deep down, Dean already knew that Cas was it for him.  Cas was who he wanted to spend the rest of his existence with.  Neither of the other two brief relationships he’d had (Cassie and Lisa) had meant even a fraction as much to him as Cas did.  He’d never felt this way about anyone before – not even close.  He wanted to give Cas the absolute best he could give him.

“Don’t stop,” Cas moaned, already looking very undone.  The sense of longing coming from Cas perfectly matched Dean’s own longing.

“We’ll  go slowly, alright?” Dean promised gently.  He decided to give Cas a break from the kissing and just focus on Cas’ wings.  After all, Dean probably would have been completely overwhelmed too if Cas had been kissing him while grooming Dean’s wings.

Dean walked behind Cas just like Cas had done with him.  Cas still was making plenty of happy noises from Dean’s touch, but he didn't seem to get quite as overwhelmed.  Getting the idea, Cas quickly oiled up his own hands and started guiding Dean’s fingers through his wings.  Cas’ feathers were very different from Dean’s fluff, and Dean wondered what it was going to be like to have such long and graceful feathers.  The basic principles of grooming carried over pretty well to the new types of feathers.  They were still massaging the oil into the feathers, and carefully straightening and smoothing them as they went.

Of course, there were a lot of new things to learn about preening while grooming Cas’ wings as well.  While they had made Dean’s feathers fluffier by grooming, the goal was the make Cas’ feathers more smooth and sleek.  These were feathers meant to be aerodynamic, and even though Cas wouldn't be flying much anytime soon, Dean still wanted to do his best to make Cas’ wings shine.  Most of Cas’ feathers had a much longer shaft than Dean’s feathers, and the silky barbs sprouting from them all had little barbicels on them to hook the fine strands together.

“Slide your fingers out from the shaft to get the barbicels to mesh together,” Cas explained as he guided Dean’s hand, his breath hitching slightly at Dean’s touch.  “It is similar to your zippers.”  It sometimes took more than one try to get the barbicels to cooperate, but after a while Dean started to get the hang of it.  The ones that Dean did weren't quite as pristine-looking as the demo feathers that Cas did by himself, but he was determined to keep improving with each feather he did.  Dean wondered how Cas could get his feathers looking so perfect without even looking at them.  Cas’ hands seemed to instinctively slide to wherever the tiniest blemishes were, and was able to fix them with quick and sure strokes of his fingers.

Cas’ feathers weren't half as ruffled as Dean’s had been, which made things a bit easier.  The much larger size of most of the feathers also made it easier to work on individual feathers.  They started by working on the secondary feathers, then moved on to the primaries.  Next came the covert feathers.  The underside of Cas’ wing had some down feathers, but they were larger than Dean’s down feathers.  It was kind of cool to get a preview of what his own down feathers might look like once they were bigger.

When they reached the alula feathers on Cas’ right wing and the other feathers immediately surrounding Cas’ injury, Dean paused.  Even though Cas had been popping lots of aspirin and acting like he was in a lot less pain, Dean was still very hesitant to let his hands get anywhere near Cas’ injury.  What if he accidentally touched the wrong spot, or made things worse?  It was bad enough that Cas was only injured because he’d been protecting him, but he wasn't about to let Cas suffer more on his account.  The actual site of the injury still looked kind of creepy to Dean, especially how devoid of color it was.

“You can still groom the feathers around the scab,” Cas assured him, sensing Dean’s hesitation.  “The injury is very localized, and my Grace is keeping it stationary.  My wings are not very fragile either.  If Crowley hadn't started arming his demons with the blades of fallen angels, I wouldn't have even gotten a scratch from that attack.  You need not be overly concerned with hurting me.”

“Overly concerned?  You mean that I could potentially hurt you?” Dean asked, yanking his hands back in horror at the thought.

“Since your new ability to touch my wings, theoretically yes.  But the force required would necessitate deliberate effort on your part, and I have complete trust in you.  Angels never allow anyone whom they do not have complete trust in to touch their wings,” Cas explained.

“Has . . . anyone else touched your wings?” Dean asked hesitantly.  He realized that there was still so much about angels and angel etiquette that he didn't know.  Even with all of his research, he’d still barely even scratched the surface.  He blushed again at his memories of the first time he’d touched Cas’ wings, when he’d never even considered that he might be violating Cas’ personal boundaries by doing so.  At the time (had he even been thinking straight) he probably would have thought of an angel wing as being no different than a very feathery arm.  He made a mental note to never criticize Cas’ lack of understanding about human personal space again.  He supposed that this kind of thing just came with the territory in a relationship between people from two such completely different worlds.  Cas had spent years studying Dean and learning about his culture.  Now it was Dean’s turn to do the same.  But Dean didn't feel this need out of any misplaced sense of obligation – he genuinely wanted to learn more about this side of Cas.  He wanted to know Cas completely.

“Angels with close familial bonds may groom each other.  It is a sign of deep seated trust,” Cas explained with a small nod.  “But that kind of touch is completely different from what we've been doing.  I've never been in a romantic relationship before.  There has never been anyone who has meant as much to me as you do.  On the contrary, having siblings touch my wings doesn't feel very different from them touching my arm.  You’ll understand if you let Sam touch your wings.  I get the impression that he would like to do so.”

Dean would have to think about that.  He still felt very vulnerable about his new wings.  But when it came to complete trust, Dean definitely had that for Sam.  Cas was probably right – Sam would be dying of curiosity about Dean’s wings.  Maybe he could let Sam touch them a little bit sometime.  But no petting – he was in no way Sam’s new pet bird.

“Your wings are part energy, even when they reside on the physical plane like now,” Cas continued.  “That energy reacts to the bond that you have with the person touching you, creating different types of sensations.  As to what you said earlier – you were right.  Sparks can be wonderful.”  Dean’s spirits soared.

“That’s what I feel from you too, Cas,” Dean replied.  He then created one such spark of pleasure on Cas’ cheek with his lips and was rewarded with a delightful little gasp out of Cas.  Dean started trailing his kisses forward towards Cas’ lips, but Cas stopped him.

“Let’s finish my wing first – we are almost done,” Cas told him, although the words seemed to take a lot of effort on his part.

“Okay,” Dean said nervously, turning his attention back towards the only spot they hadn't touched yet – Cas’ injury.

“You can preen the feathers surrounding the injury in the same way that you did the other feathers.  Don’t worry about the scab for now.  When it is time for the scab to come off, we can use some of my oil to soften and loosen it,” Cas instructed.

Dean oiled up his hands again, and then started hesitantly preening the feathers next to the injury with as much tenderness as he could manage.  As he touched those feathers, he noticed that some of their missing color seemed to seep back into them.  He left each feather looking healthier and brighter than it had been before.  That was a relief, and Dean relaxed slightly.  He didn't seem to be causing Cas any pain, so slowly Dean started to get a little more confidence in his careful workings.

At first, Dean tried to keep his fingers clear of the bluish white threads of Grace that were crisscrossing over Cas’ injury.  Then he realized that he was being silly.  It wasn't like the Grace was going to hurt him.  Part of Cas’ Grace had already taken up permanent residence within him after all, and Cas had frequently used his Grace on Dean many other times as well.  When he hesitantly let his fingers come into contact with the threads of Grace, he realized that the threads could easily flow around or even straight through his fingers as if they didn't pose any obstacle whatsoever.  They felt like warmth, and light, and love, and _Cas_.  The handprint on Dean’s arm seemed to resonate with recognition whenever Dean’s fingers brushed the threads of Grace.  It was a good feeling.  It was also a powerful reminder of how interconnected he was with Cas, and Dean couldn't help but smile.

When Dean finished preening the last of Cas’ feathers, Cas smile broadened into something that seemed to reach straight into Dean’s soul.  Cas turned around and embraced Dean, wrapping him up in his wings.

“Now who is ruffling up their feathers all over again?” Dean teased with a smirk.  Despite the slight ache in his fingers from the new kind of exertion, he’d be happy to start all over again.  Cas responded by giving him an amused and slightly mischievous smile before kissing Dean deeply.  No longer needing to focus on the preening lessons, Dean let himself get completely lost in making out with Cas.

 

☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆ SUPERNATURAL ☆ ★ ☆  ●  ☆ ★ ☆

 

Dean was still feeling complete bliss the next morning when he woke up still wrapped in Cas’ wings.  Yep – this was definitely how he wanted to wake up from now on.  Cas’ silky feathers were warmer and more comfortable than any blanket in the world, and each of them seemed to be practically singing to him how much Cas loved him.  It was all very hopelessly sappy and romantic.  But Dean realized that so long as he didn't get in his own stubborn way, he could let himself have this.  Besides, if he was completely honest with himself, the way that he felt about Cas was a bit sappy too.  God, he was going soft.

“Good morning,” Cas greeted him with a chaste kiss to his cheek.  “You’ll be pleased to know that each of your wings grew another inch overnight.”  An inch, huh?  That wasn't quite the ten foot wingspan that Dean was hoping for, but at least it was forward progress.  So long as they kept growing like that, the inches would eventually add up to a respectable wingspan.

They were rather slow getting out of bed.  Eventually though, the very loud noises coming from Dean’s stomach started becoming increasingly hard to ignore.  Reluctantly, they eventually got up and headed for the kitchen.

“Hey, just in time for lunch sleepyheads,” Sam greeted them with a smirk.

“It’s that late already?” Dean asked, trying to suppress a yawn.

“I thought it best to coax you towards the 7 hour average night's sleep for humans, rather than your usual 4 hours,” Cas admitted.  “And we did end up staying up rather late last night . . . .”  He paused when Sam put his hand up.

“I’m totally cool with whatever you guys are doing, but I really don’t need to hear details,” Sam interrupted.  “But I bought you guys something while you were sleeping.”  Dean’s stomach grumbled loudly in anticipation.  Could it really be what he hoped it was?

Sam ducked into the kitchen for a moment, and when he returned he was carrying plates, forks, a knife, . . . and a pie box!  Sam had remembered to buy him the promised pie. 

“Sam – you are awesome!” Dean exclaimed happily.  “Oh wow – you went all the way to that bakery in Hastings for this?  Cas, you've gotta try a slice of this.  This is no grocery store pie.  This pie is from one of the best bakeries within a short driving distance.”  Hastings was a good hour drive away from the bunker, the way Sam drives (although that was still short by Winchester standards).  He really did have the absolute best brother ever.

“You’re welcome,” Sam told him, with an amused grin over how excited Dean was over the pie.  Dean laughed when he opened the box.  Someone had taken whipped cream and drawn angel wings on top of the peach pie.  Sam wasn't very artistic, so he’d probably asked one of the bakery employees to draw it for him.

“Isn't that heavenly?” Dean commented with a smirk.  The smell certainly was heavenly, and he knew that the taste would be too.  He made short work of serving up slices of pie for all three of them.  Then Dean moaned with pleasure with every bite.

Dean couldn't remember the last time he’d felt this happy and content with his life.  Sure, he had no idea how this whole wing thing was going to go, but they’d cross each bridge as they came to it.  So long as he was surrounded by the people who loved him, he was good.

**Author's Note:**

> I ~~might~~ **WILL** turn this into a verse, and I do have some general ideas on where the story could go from here. If there are specific things that anyone would like to see explored more in this verse, mention it in the comments and I'll consider it if the plot bunnies like it.
> 
> **ETA:** I've started a sequel which will be posted in Oct/Nov 2015 as part of DCBB. For more info or to volunteer to be my beta, see [my LJ post](http://psynatural.livejournal.com/3063.html) about my current writing projects. THANK YOU to everyone who has enjoyed my story and encouraged me to write more!
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, please ~~come back after my identity is revealed and~~ check out some of my other stories.
> 
> COMMENTS are absolutely adored! ❤
> 
> ___________________________________________________
> 
> **Original prompt by[Nonexistenz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz):** (who also gave me two other unrelated prompts to choose from)
> 
> Prompt 3 - Wingfic!  
> Sam, Dean and Cas on a case walking down a street or eating in a diner or something, and there is that kid, staring. Stopping whatever it was doing and staring with a dropped jaw at Cas. Then following them around. After a while that kid asking if it can touch the wings, Dean and Sam not getting it at first, and Cas only smiling softly. Like Cas once said, certain people, special people can perceive angels true visage. It's rare, and that's the first human he met that can see a part of him, his wings. Cas and the kid/teen (whatever, doesn't really need to be a kid) bonding over that. Talking about that. The kid touching his wings. Grooming them even? Ha, that just screams for jealous Dean, doesn't it?  
> OR  
> Dean and Sam trying to get Cas to come help with something. Cas showing up way later, crashlanding in their hotel room. Not telling them what is wrong. Helping them, whatever. All the while having an broken wing. And not being able to fly for quite a while, broken wings healing slowly or something. Maybe even having to get assistance from another angel for something because he really can't fly while he heals. Dean and Sam notice something is wrong but only really get it or ask when they notice Castiel's lack of not flying off anywhere. Protective/Mother-hen, overly worried Dean, yay.  
> OR  
> What if Castiel stands so close to Dean because he is always covering him with his wings? On a hunt or somewhere, shielding him instinctively. Downtime, draping his wing over Dean's shoulders or on his lap. Touching Dean and hugging him with his wings all the time. Being kinda even touchy-feely with his wings. But humans don't perceive the angel part, so Dean has no idea Cas does that. Or does he? Or stuff happens and he finally sees and feels that or whatever.
> 
> (And no, I don't expect a wingfic, I just have the most headcanons about it. Don't mind me, write what inspires you. I'll appreciate everything anyway!)


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